


between the devil and the deep blue sea

by ObscureReference



Category: Original Work
Genre: A girl and her mermaid, Horror, Mermaids, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 22:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6585601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He barely had enough time to wonder if this was what she had been afraid of, whatever <i>this</i> was. He thrashed around in the arms of his captor, his jeans and sneakers forcing him to move sluggishly in the water. Whatever held him tightened its grip around his waist, and he fought to hold on to what little breath he had left."</p>
            </blockquote>





	between the devil and the deep blue sea

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about mermaids, and I had the option between sweet, magical realism mermaids in a more forest setting and this. You can see which one I chose.

She was waiting on the docks when he got there, her bare feet dangling over the end of the pier. It was a cloudy night, the sea choppy and black, and she looked smaller than she should have been. He parked the car sideways in his rush to meet her. Nobody else was around to mind.

"Charity!" He called, rushing down the pier with heavy footsteps that caused the wood underneath him to creek. She jumped when he called her name, and when she stood up, he couldn't tell if she had been crying or if the wind had simply been throwing salt into her eyes. He wanted to take her into his arms forever.

He settled for grabbing her shoulders. She only came up to his chest. She was so _small._

The wind was picking up, and despite the thick cotton of her long-sleeved shirt, she had worn shorts that left her legs bare. God, where were her _shoes_? He thought he could see goose bumps rising on her skin.

Her brown hair fluttered in the breeze. She pushed it behind her ear.

"David?" Charity said, sniffing. So she _had_ been crying. His heart began to crack. "I didn't think you would come."

"Of course I would," he reassured her. He fumbled with his pocket and pulled out the now crumpled paper he'd found stuffed in his locker. "I got your note. I said I'd always come for you."

She took the paper from him with trembling fingers. His free hand came to rest on her shoulder as she did.

"I know," she said, her hair forming a curtain over her eyes as she looked at the note. "I know you would. It's just. I got so s _cared_."

"Hey," he said, tilting her chin up with his hand. Her cheek felt cold under his palm, and he knew she had been outside too long. His car would still be warm, probably, if they got in it quickly. "Hey, hey. Whatever it is, it will _be okay._ We can talk about it. I promise."

His brain was racing, twisting knots around itself to figure out what had gotten into her so badly. He wanted to scream, to ask if everything was okay, if _they_ were okay. But he restrained himself. He needed her to be someplace safe first. Someplace safe and warm.

"I know, I know," she said again. The wind had picked up again, and she pushed the lock of hair that had escaped her hold behind her ear once more.

Foamy spray from the ocean spilt onto the docks. It wasn't safe to be outside.

"Promise me," Charity started.

_"Anything."_ And he meant it.

He watched her swallow and crumple the note between her fingers.

"Promise me that we'll always be together," she said. She looked at him with huge, watery eyes, and David melted.

He wrapped her arms around her, pulling her tightly to his chest. He hoped she felt at least marginally warmer against him. What had she been thinking, coming out here so late? She didn't even have a coat.

"Always," he said, breathless. He wondered if she could feel his heart hammering underneath his ribs. "Always, of course."

Charity wriggled her arms between them, clutching the fabric of his shirt over his chest. There was no way she missed the way his heart jumped in his chest that time.

She mumbled something into his shirt but with all the wind and sloshing waves, he couldn't make out the words. He leaned closer.

"What?"

There was a heavy splash, a wave that had picked up speed, and then suddenly he felt a pair of arms around his waist. Charity was still clutching his front, so he knew it couldn't have been her, but he didn't have time to think above anything else before whatever had latched onto him pulled back towards the water, knocking him off-balance and sending him toppling over the side of the pier.

He didn't even have enough time to yell before the frozen sea water knocked the air out of his lungs. Bubbles burst out of his mouth, and he could feel solid arms still gripping his waist the same way he could still feel Charity's delicate body in his own.

_Charity._

David let go immediately. The sea salt stung his eyes too much to open them, but he thought he felt her kick away and swim up. Towards the surface. He hoped so, at least. He couldn't live with himself if he let anything happen to her.

He barely had enough time to wonder if this was what she had been afraid of, whatever _this_ was. He thrashed around in the arms of his captor, his jeans and sneakers forcing him to move sluggishly in the water. Whatever held him tightened its grip around his waist, and he fought to hold on to what little breath he had left.

Then something dug its teeth into his neck and he lost the rest of his air with a scream.

 

 

 

Charity broke the surface with a gasp. Another wave nearly pushed her back under, but she fought to keep her head above water by grasping the rotting wood of the pier. The water felt almost glacial on her skin, and even without heavy clothes weighing her down it was still an effort to lift herself back onto the pier with her shaking limbs.

She fought to stand for a moment before giving up completely, collapsing on the edge of the docks. Several wet coughs wracked her frame, and she spat up a mouthful of seawater onto the wooden planks under her cheek. Nobody was around to watch her gasp and heave.

After a moment, she gathered enough strength to push herself to all fours and whip around, peering over the edge of the wood.  Her eyes frantically scanned the water, watching bubbles claw their way to the surface even as a body didn't.

She waited for dark hair and freckled skin to emerge from the water, for David to pull himself onto the pier just as she had done and assure her that everything was going to be okay.

Eventually, the bubbles stopped surfacing, and she was left watching wave after wave swallow the space where they had fallen in. A few waves threatened to climb onto the docks and douse her in sea scum and litter, but the spray only misted her face. She waited, shivering, wishing it was a warmer night.

David didn't reappear.

Good.

She almost couldn't believe he had dragged her into the water with him. That had always been a possibility that nagged at the back of her mind, but everyone else had been smart enough to let go when they realized they were about to tumble into the water. Then again, David had never been particularly bright.

It would have been a smart idea to climb back into her own car and start the heat, but she was still dripping wet and salt in the car seats would have been hard to explain to her parents. Besides, she wanted to make sure everything had gone smoothly.

It took several more minutes before she got the first inkling that something was rising to the surface. Usually it was easy to tell by the inky shadow that heralded her arrival, but tonight the waves were so rough that Charity didn't realize she was coming until she had nearly already reached air.

She came up all at once, forceful and quick, like she had pushed herself up from the sandy seafloor with one solid kick. Charity pulled back enough so the new arrival use to space to place her forearms on the dock and keep herself in place, her long tail no doubt flipping lazily back and forth under the water despite the turbulent storms above.

"Vivi," she said, her eyes tracing over the face that had just popped out of the water.

Vivi grinned back, rows and rows of razor-edged teeth shown off with pride as a greeting. Charity smiled. It was too dark to see the finer details of her face, but Charity had memorized her features by heart.

David  would have called her a monster. But David had been stupid.

Vivi's hair hung over her shoulders, thick like seaweed, a little tangled from the wind and the scuffle. Charity reached over to comb her fingers through Vivi's hair, to straighten it out, and Vivi let her. It felt like seaweed too.

Vivi wasn't her real name. Charity had asked for her name once, at the beginning. She'd gotten a guttural, hissing sound for an answer. One that lacked proper air and articulation.

So then she asked if Vivi was all right, and she'd gotten a yes.

Sirens weren't real. Or, if they were, Vivi certainly wasn't one. Whatever she sounded like beneath the waves, Vivi's voice on land was breathy and ugly, more screech than sound. They had played a lot of guessing games in order to communicate at the start of it all.

Charity didn't mind. Whatever Vivi sounded like, they belonged to each other.

Sirens weren't real. At least, Vivi certainly wasn't one.

And Charity liked that. She liked helping.

"Did he struggle too much?" She asked. It was _freezing_ , but she tried not to let it show. "Sorry, I know he's kind of tall. I didn't think he'd be a fighter, though."

Vivi shrugged, her head tilting in a way that meant she was watching more than answering.

Charity shivered. Vivi reached out, and when her webbed fingers grazed Charity's skin, they felt thicker than any other person Charity had ever touched. It had taken a while to figure out all of Vivi felt like that. It was for the same reason her skin was dark, like a whale's. The ocean was too cold not to be.

Vivi made a questioning sound. Charity shook her head.

"I'm fine," she said, reassuring Vivi just like David had reassured her, with the difference being that Charity was the smart one. "I didn't expect him to pull me in, is all."

It hadn't been Vivi's idea at first.

Of course, it hadn't technically been Charity's either.

But she had noticed that Vivi looked awfully thin some weeks, more so than others. Like she was losing and gaining weight too quickly all the time. Wasn't it cold in the ocean, she asked. Didn't she need the extra weight?

Vivi hadn't been able to tell her at the time—hadn't _wanted_ to tell her, too ashamed as a predator—but the answer had been obvious: there wasn't enough food. Not enough so close to the shores that Vivi could consistently eat _and_ visit every few days, anyway. There were too many people that scared off the fish, too much pollution thrown out to sea. Vivi was a growing girl. She needed to eat. The carelessness of humans made Charity sick.

So Charity had brought figh from the market. Vivi had taken one sniff of the stuff and batted it into the water. Then she'd tried chicken, pork, beef. Any meat she could find. All of it had been rejected.

Then one night, some drunken sailor had approached them while Charity hung over the side of the pier to whisper to Vivi under the cover of darkness. Vivi had slipped back under the water at the first sound of footsteps, and while Charity couldn't tell what the sailor wanted, his breath stunk of whiskey and his words slurred unpleasantly when he spoke.

When he leaned too close for comfort, raising his calloused hand to touch her shoulder, Vivi had sprung out of the water and dragged the sailor back down with her. Neither had surfaced for several minutes. Finally, Vivi reappeared. The sailor did not. While Charity's anxiety finally waned, she notice something pink now coated Vivi's teeth.

And that's when it clicked.

_Never let it be said_ , Charity thought, _that I don't live up to my name._

Vivi made a noise caught somewhere between a cat's purr and a hiss. Charity waved her off.

"It's fine, I'll leave in a minute," she said, pretending that the wind wasn't biting her fingertips off. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

The noise turned from less of a hiss to almost entirely a purr. If cats could purr while drowning, that is.

Though Charity couldn't see them, she knew Vivi's gills were hidden just below the water. She knew Vivi couldn't rise up any more without exposing them to air, without choking herself, so Charity leaned down instead.

She pressed her lips to Vivi's eyelids, and the salt lingered on her mouth when she pulled back.

"I hope he lasts you," she said. "I think I might have to wait a while before I can get another one."

It wouldn't do for anyone to get suspicious, after all, even if David's note had been ruined when they had fallen into the water. She had planned to simply burn it later, but that worked as well. She had pleaded in the letter for him not to tell anyone they were meeting, and she was pretty sure he hadn't. David had been so good about following orders.

Vivi made an understanding sound. She raised her hand as far as she could reach without exposing her gills, and Charity leaned down so Vivi could cup her cheek. Her hand was cold and wet.

Charity giggled into the kiss. It was chaste—Vivi's teeth were to sharp to allow anything else, after all—but a giddiness welled up inside her like a fountain. 

"Okay," she said when they pulled apart. "I should go now. But I'll see you tomorrow."

The docks creaked underfoot as she made her way back to the car. Charity paused just long enough to slip her shoes back on and grab to the towel from the trunk to wipe the last drops of water from her skin. The car door was chilly when she grabbed it, and the interior not much better. Stupid storm.

It was Friday. David would probably be reported missing on Monday. Witnesses would claim his car had been here since at least Saturday morning, and it wouldn't take long for someone to put the pieces together that he must have been goofing around by the docks while a storm had been brewing.

_Poor dear_ , they would say. _He must have fallen in on accident._ And they would shake their heads in sympathy and shame.

She eyed the car. Maybe tow-trucks would get to it first. He certainly had done a shitty job at parking.

Her eyes glanced back out to sea one last time. For a moment she thought a particularly high wave was rising over the pier before she realized the shadow was actually fish tail waving goodbye before Vivi dipped back beneath the waves. She was so thoughtful like that.

Charity pressed her fingers to the seashell on the dashboard—the huge, pink conch shell Vivi had gifted her when they first met—and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life. She needed a shower.

**Author's Note:**

> I read the phrase "The devil and the deep blue sea" while looking up stuff about Scylla and Charybdis, and while I know the phrase originally refers to sailors who had to go out to sea or die (or something along those lines), I chose to think of it more as the general meaning "to choose between two awful things." In this case, Charity is the Devil and Vivi is the sea.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment below or hmu on my tumblr (http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/) for whatever reason. I love talking to people, and you can also find more original stuff under my "sor writes" tag.


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